


The One Where Jesse and Jane Get a Cat (The Bond Villain Remix)

by heyjupiter



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Cats, F/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: "I always wanted a dog but my parents always said I wasn't responsible enough," Jesse said with a sigh. "They were probably right, though.""Well, fuck that!" Jane said. She sat up and pulled her T-shirt over her head. "Let's go get a cat.""Okay! Yeah! Let's go get a cat!"





	The One Where Jesse and Jane Get a Cat (The Bond Villain Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The One Where Jesse and Jane Get a Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629198) by [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett). 



> Thanks to Sylvestris for her skillful beta reading!

When Jane was a little girl, she'd begged for a kitten for her birthday for years. Every year she’d insist that she would take care of it, and every year she'd instead gotten a stuffed toy and a lecture about how having a pet was a lot of responsibility. 

When Jane turned 16, her father apparently decided she was responsible enough, and presented her with a fluffy white kitten with a pink bow around its neck. It looked exactly like her favorite plush cat...when she was 6 years old. It was admittedly very cute, but she'd really wanted a car.

Taking in the disappointed look on Jane’s face , he said, "I thought you wanted a cat."

"I wanted one when I was a kid."

He sighed. "Well, do you want me to take her back to the pet store? She's a purebred Persian."

Jane shrugged. "No, she's cute, I guess." 

"Now, it's a lot of responsibility…" he said, launching into a list of her new chores. She zoned out and pet the kitten, who bit her hand and ran away. Jane named the kitten Georgia. She tried her best to take care of her , but honestly, Jane was pretty busy and Georgia was pretty annoying. Whenever Jane tried to draw, Georgia would attack her pen. If Jane didn't empty Georgia's litter box like, every day, Georgia would pee on Jane's stuff. Jane had to brush Georgia’s fur more often than Jane brushed her own hair. On weekends, when Jane tried to sleep in, Georgia would climb into Jane's bed and bat at her face. 

One day, Jane accidentally let Georgia outside on her rush to get to school. Georgia came home three days later, but it turned out she'd gotten pregnant on her walkabout. Jane's father was furious and insisted that they take Georgia to a shelter.

"If you're not responsible enough to handle one cat, you're certainly not responsible enough to handle her _and_ her kittens," he said.

Jane resented feeling that she'd failed at a task she hadn't even asked for. Her father was always doing this kind of thing to her, like when he'd signed her up for piano lessons and then been disappointed that her lack of practicing made her recital a disaster, or when he'd suggested they bake Christmas cookies together and then blamed her when he'd taken an important phone call in the middle of it and the cookies burned. All Jane really wanted was to be left alone to draw. 

When her father came back from the animal shelter empty-handed, Jane mostly felt relief: no more combing knots out of that impossible fur or trying to clean the pee smell out of her laundry. And hopefully, Georgia's kittens would make some other little girls very happy. But sometimes Jane did miss the way it had felt when Georgia curled up on her lap, warm and cozy.

When Jane was 19, she used heroin for the first time at a house party. It made her feel like she was flying. It made her feel warm and cozy. It made her feel like she was _good enough_.

When Jane was 24, her father forced her into rehab. Even though she didn't start using until a few years after she'd lost her cat, she still found herself thinking of Georgia when she got to Step 8, listing all the people she'd harmed and being willing to make amends to them. Her carelessness had caused harm. Looking back on the day Georgia had escaped, she knew she should have tried harder to get the cat back in the house before she left for school. Georgia was never meant to be an outdoor cat. But then, Jane was sure Georgia and her kittens had all gotten better homes than the Margolises' through the shelter, so amends had already been made, hadn't they?

Georgia had been Jane's only childhood pet; they'd never even considered getting a dog. But Jane's rehab facility sometimes had visits from "therapy dogs." Which was kind of a silly name; it wasn't like the dogs had gone to grad school or whatever. On the other hand, they did seem more helpful than most of the human counselors on staff. 

The therapy dogs were all beautiful golden retrievers, soft and shiny. They'd sit in their designated areas and let the recovering junkies pet them, always thrilled for attention. Jane didn't usually bother to get in line for time with a therapy dog. She preferred the relative solitude she could find drawing in the gardens while everyone else was waiting impatiently for their turn with the dogs. 

But sometimes, when she was having an especially rough day, she would wait for a turn with a therapy dog. They were so soft and so stupidly happy to see her. On her worst days, that was enough. Most days, though, Jane didn't care for affection that was given so freely. The dogs didn't care for _her_ specifically, which was what she really wanted.

When Jane was 26, she met Jesse Pinkman. In some ways, he reminded her of one of the therapy dogs. He'd never been to grad school either, but god, he was pretty, and always so happy to see her, so eager to please. Something about being with Jesse made Jane feel extremely competent in comparison, made her think that perhaps she was ready to handle the responsibilities of pet ownership. Besides, Jesse's work had such unpredictable hours. She could use something cuddly to keep her bed warm at night.

One Sunday, out to breakfast with her father, she said, "I was thinking about getting a cat."

"Really, Jane? Do you think that's the best idea right now?"

"Yeah, I do. Cats are easy to take care of. And I just think a cat would give me a _sense of purpose_ ," she said, repeating one of his own goals for her back to him.

"Remember Georgia?"

"Of course I remember Georgia! But I was only sixteen when we had her. And, by the way, I do kind of feel like it should have been _your_ responsibility to get her fixed."

He shook his head. "Just remember that the terms of the lease apply to you as well as your tenant."

Jane nodded. The lease was based on a template form. Her father apparently hadn’t read all the fine print, and neither did most tenants. But Jane had read every word. Although they didn't advertise it, the lease actually allowed for one small pet (under 25 pounds) in the apartment, simply stating that any damage caused by the pet would be taken out of the security deposit. She was within her _rights_ to get a cat.

Later that day, lying beside Jesse on his sunflower-bright sheets, she said, "I was thinking about getting a cat."

"Really? A cat, not a dog?"

"Yeah, cats are way more low maintenance."

"Yeah, that's a good point. Plus you're like, totally more of a cat person, now that I think about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno...you're like, elegant. Like a cat. And like...dogs like everybody, but you're...particular. Yeah, particular," Jesse repeated, clearly pleased with the word choice.

"Hmm," Jane said. Sometimes Jesse was surprisingly perceptive.

"I always wanted a dog but my parents always said I wasn't responsible enough," Jesse said with a sigh. "They were probably right, though."

"Well, fuck that!" Jane said. She sat up and pulled her T-shirt over her head. "Let's go get a cat."

"Okay! Yeah! Let's go get a cat!" 

"We'll get a shelter cat, one that really needs a home."

"Yeah, or a little kitten, even."

"Nah, kittens are too much work. Let's get the oldest, most pathetic cat. The cat that nobody else wants."

Jesse sat up too, and kissed her. "Yeah! Let's totally do that. But wait, first should we go to Target and get, like, cat food and stuff?"

"Oh, yeah, that's a good point actually. And a litter box, obviously."

"A litter box is gonna be _clutch_ ," Jesse agreed solemnly.

"And some air fresheners to cover up the smell of the litter box. And some toys."

"Yeah, catnip and shit."

"Okay, so yeah, let's go get that stuff, and _then_ we'll go to the animal shelter."

"Ooh, what about one of those fancy pet drinking fountains? Badger's mom got one of those for their dog. The dog was _obsessed_ with it."

"Uh, yeah, sure, maybe one of those," Jane said.

They went to Target, and then also to PetSmart because Target didn't have any of the pet fountains, and then to Sonic because Happy Hour was almost over and Jesse wanted a strawberry slush, and then by the time they made it to the animal shelter, it was closed.

"They're only open 1-5 on Sundays? That's bullshit," Jesse said. "Okay, well, we can come back tomorrow, right, babe?"

"Yeah, tomorrow, for sure," Jane said. 

While they stood there, smoking cigarettes and re-reading the sign on the door, another car pulled into the shelter parking lot. A man got out of it holding a pillowcase. He looked at the "closed" sign and muttered, "Goddammit." He glanced quickly at Jesse and Jane. Then he turned over the pillowcase. A white cat jumped out of the pillowcase and sat on the sidewalk. The man got back in his car and left before Jane could really process what was happening.

"Wow, what an asshole," Jane said, referring to the human. At least she'd made sure Georgia made it all the way inside the animal shelter. Well, her father had, anyway. The white cat rubbed against her leg, as if in agreement.

Jesse smiled. "Look, he likes you! It's like, fate."

"Huh. Yeah, maybe it is." Jane stubbed out her cigarette and looked around the empty parking lot. She bent down to pick up the cat and murmured, "Hey, beautiful." In her arms, she quickly flipped the cat over. "Oh, good, he's a boy."

"What's so good about that?"

"He won't get pregnant."

"Oh, yeah, right."

Jane looked into the cat's eyes. "You want to come with us, buddy?" The cat purred. "That sounds like a yes to me."

Among all the pet supplies and random human junk food they'd picked up, they hadn't remembered to get a pet carrier. They didn't even have a pillowcase like that guy had had. So while Jesse drove, Jane held the cat on her lap.

"What are you gonna name him?" Jesse asked. "He looks like that Bond villain cat."

"What? No way, he's not a villain, he's a good kitty. He needs a good name. A distinguished name."

"Okay, so name him Bond…James Bond."

"Nah. His name is…George. Do you like that, George?" Jane asked. The cat kept purring, and she smiled. She'd show her father. She was _totally_ responsible enough to take care of a cat.


End file.
